Spinner’s End was not the most pleasant of places. Nymphadora Tonks (or just Tonks, as she preferred) could testify to that. That awful place was where she was currently being held captive, and she was none too happy about it. She was tied to a chair in the living room, being leered at by none other but Peter Pettigrew, one of the slimiest the servants of Voldemort, not to mention, the smelliest also.

Tonks had been taken captive in a Death Eater raid. She was not quite sure how it happened. She was in the Auror office of the Ministry of Magic filling out tedious paper work. She couldn’t understand why the Minister of Magic would be having her doing paper work when there was a war going on, but none-the-less there she was scribbling away at some meaningless document.

Suddenly, there were shouts from down the hall. She had run out with her wand drawn. Leave it to Death Eaters to mess up a day of mind-numbing paper work, she thought as she stunned a tall, masked figure. She had been dueling with one particularly fierce Death Eater when someone attacked her from behind. That someone managed to knock her out. By the painful throbbing in her head, she was pretty sure he had hit her with the bust of Marcus the Moronic that was displayed in the hall that the mêlée had broken out in.

The next thing Tonks saw was an ugly face staring down at her. When she tried to push it away, she found that her hands were bound behind her. She was quite disappointed about that. It made it not only harder to escape, but it also made it hard to get the ugly person to stop breathing on her. She had to resort to different means.

“Pardon me,” she started. “But would you mind not breathing on me?”

The person backed up. Wormtail, otherwise know as Peter Pettigrew was now looking at her with vague curiosity. The traitorous mockery of a man looked quite worn. One might even had almost felt pity for him. Almost.

“Where am I?” asked Tonks, figuring that she might as well not panic yet.

“Spinner’s End,” said Wormtail.

“This is you house?”

“No, but I stay here for now, as my master commands,” he replied nervously.

Tonks asked no more questions. She just sat eyeing Wormtail reproachfully as he eyed her with uneasiness. Soon they both became bored and he left to what she assume was an attic. She examined what she could see of the house. It was pretty boring. The furniture was ragged and there was no ornamentation of any type. All there was in the room was some furniture, some quills and parchment and books. Lots of books.

Tonks sighed. She tried to release her bonds, but had no prevail. She then tried to do wandless magic, but that did not work either. So, she sat, as bored as hell until she fell asleep.

A while later she woke up to a crash. She opened her eyes to see that Wormtail has crashed down out of the attic. She looked at him skeptically as he scurried frantically to the next room, where she could here the clatter of pans. “What’s going on?” she asked.

“He’s home.”

“Who?”

She got no answer. Tonks hoped it was not as bad as Wormtail made it seem. She had rather hoped that she would be able to get out of this situation without too much hassle. Another person just added to her problems. She quickly decided to change her appearance. She knew that Wormtail already knew who she was, but wishful thinking made her hope that he wouldn’t say anything. Her hair became long and dark, her eyes a muddy brown and her face a bit longer.

The front door crashed open followed by the sounds of someone cursing. Two cloaked figures entered. The taller of the two seemed to be ranting. “Of all things. When we are in front of the Dark Lord, you will let me do the talking. You could have gotten us both killed…”

The figure, whom Tonks assumed to be male, turned a looked at her. “Oh great, a prisoner. Wormtail!” Wormtail scurried in flinching. “What did I say about prisoners? Did I not tell you just to knock them out and throw them in cellar? You disobey me just because of some pretty face…”

Tonks almost began to laugh. Oddly, the whole thing seemed quite humorous to her. Her humor was shot down though, when the man pulled off his cloak.

“Who are you?” said none other than Severus Snape, the traitor. Tonks expression turned to ice.

“No one of consequence, Snivelus,” she said bitingly, remembering her cousin Sirius’s nickname for him.

Snape expression became even darker, if that was even possible. He dug into his robes to reveal a small flask. She struggled as he wrench open her mouth and dripped a little of the contents into her throat. “Now, let’s try again. Who are you?”

“Well you see, it is hard for me to tell you who I am. It takes most people all their lives to find out,” she said with a wry smile.

“What is your name?” said Snape gritting his teeth.

“Correstantzatarashiwa,” Tonks replied. She knew very well that she was under truth potion. She had not lied at all. She just avoided the answers he was seeking.

“What is your surname, or is that your surname?”

Tonks cursed in her mind. “That is not my surname. My surname is Tonks.”

“Correstantzatarashiwa Tonks?”

“Yes?”

“What is your full name?”

“Nymphadora Correstantzatarashiwa Tonks,” replied Tonks. She cursed again in her head.

“Nymphadora, how do you come here?”

“Well, I don’t really know. I suppose you may be able to apparate, unless you have wards. I would not be surprised if you did…”

“What circumstances brought you here!” yelled Snape, apparently getting annoyed by her twisting of his questions.

“There was a attack at the Ministry. I was knocked out with the bust of Marcus the Moronic. I woke up here,” She replied. She could have avoided this question as well, but she thought it not wise to annoy Snape any more than necessary.

Snape glared down at her, his greasy locks falling in his eyes. Tonks shuddered. Snape seemed to notice,

“Are you afraid?” he sneered.

“No.”

“You shuddered. Why?”

“I was just thinking about your lack of hygiene. Really, you should wash your hair more; it is rather disgusting. It would look a whole lot better too,” said Tonks, not being able to prevent herself. The second figure, who was still cloaked, seemed to bite back a laugh, but Snape looked livid.

“Wormtail!” called Snape. “Why is she here?”

“Master has plans for her. He thinks she will be a valuable asset during the war,” answered Wormtail.

“More like a pain in the ass,” muttered Snape. Tonks just gave him a sweet smile, which seemed to annoy him even more.

“I try,” she said.

“I don’t know what Lupin sees in you.”

Tonks just glared. That was a bit of a touchy subject to her. She knew he brought it up to provoke her. Then he would have a laugh as she got angry, but was not able to do anything. That is when Tonks realized that the rope on one of her legs was a bit loose and that Snape was standing fairly close to her. One swift kick…thought Tonks.

Snape howled as her foot connected with his shin. She grinned and the cloaked figure was practically doubled with laughter. His hood shook off, revealing a white-blonde haired youth. “Why, isn’t it my least favorite cousin!” said Tonks. “I would suggest that you do not follow in the steps of Severus here.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t get close enough for you to kick me. I don’t want to be that close to such a filthy muggle-lover,” snarled Draco Malfoy.

“Draco, Draco,” said Tonks, shaking her head. “I know Snape is filthy, but he is definitely not a muggle-lover. I did once hear a rumor that he had an affair with the Giant Squid, though.”

“ENOUGH!” shouted Snape. “Draco, go to bed! Wormtail, get up to the attic! And you,” he pointed at Tonks, “SHUT UP!”

Tonks reluctantly did what she was told. She knew she had pushed the limit with the Giant Squid comment, but she really had heard such a rumor, although she really doubted whether it was true. The house quieted until only the soft chirps of crickets could be heard. Tonks slept, rather uncomfortably and while sitting up, but she slept none-the-less.